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I’m sitting in the Bargainer’s couch, watching him as he paces back and forth across the room, his arms behind his back.

He cuts a glance my way and, frowning, gives me a jerky nod.

Well, shit.

What had those kids called the man behind the mystery? The Thief of Souls. Not exactly the kind of name that gives you warm fuzzies.

How many times had Temper and I dealt with a similar situation? How many criminals had threatened us over the years?

Countless. And when that happened, the only surefire way to guarantee our safety was to nab the bad guy before they got to us.

I take a deep breath. “I want to help you solve this case. Not just interview servants, but actually solve it.”Before my stalker makes good on his promises.

Des stops pacing. “You wish to help me and my people?” He gives me a strange look.

I shift a little on his couch, uneasy by the odd intensity in his eyes.

“That’s not what I said.”

He prowls closer to me, tilting his head like he can divine my secrets from my face. “But you mean to.” He reaches the couch, looking down at me. “Helping me any more than you already have will place you in danger—danger that even my protection might not save you from. We can find other ways for you to repay your debts.”

“This isn’t about repayment,” I say.

His eyes deepen. Almost reluctantly he tears his gaze from mine, rubbing his chin. His shadows have lovingly wrapped themselves around my legs.

“I should say no,” he muses aloud. “There are so many reasons why I should say no.” His eyes slide to mine. “Even knowing the danger, you’re still interested in helping me?” he asks.

I hesitate, then nod, squeezing my thighs. Am I frightened? Of course. But that’s never stopped me in the past from taking on a case.

“Alright, cherub, we’ll figure this out. Together.”

Chapter 17

March, seven years ago

My stepfather isalive.

I stare in horror at him as he picks his bloody body off the ground, his neck wound still gushing.

I knew it. I knew he’d come back. Hugh Anders was too big, too terrible, too powerful to be killed.

I stumble back as his eyes focus on me, and there’s such murderous rage in them. He’d never looked at me like that when he was alive. There was a different sort of sickness to his gazes then.

But now that I killed him, things are a little different.

“No,” I breathe. I’m covered in his blood and still edging away from him. My heel slides in a puddle of it, and I lose my footing.

My elbow hits the ground first, the impact making my teeth click.

The monster isalive. It’s not over. It’s never going to be over. He’s been killing me slowly since I was twelve. He’s simply here to finish the job.

He stalks towards me, blood still pouring from his neck wound.

I scramble backwards as he keeps coming at me.

“You thought you could kill me?” he says, “Me?”

Oh God oh Godoh God.